"I wish to see Jane."

Thor's gruff voice resonated through the room, full of purity and sincerity. It had been so long since he'd seen her. He thought about her daily still, wishing he could hold her small body in his arms. Heimdall assured him that she was always in good hands, as did Agent Coulson. He did not wish to complicate her life, but he could not bear to leave her realm without witnessing the sparkle in her eyes.

"I understand that, but what are we supposed to do with Loki?" asked Nick Fury. It was never clear to those around him whether he realized the callousness in his voice.

"You're just going to make him leave? He came all the way here, helped us fight the Chitauri, and you won't give him a chance to go see her?" Natasha's inquiry was soft and soothing in contrast to the booming voices before her. Bruce simply nodded, and Steve sat unmoving beside him.

"Look, I want him to be able to visit his girlfriend too, but we have some pretty important shit to take care of right now. He can't just drag Loki around with him on a leash, and we don't have any place to put him," the director continued, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

A quiet scoff resounded from the corner of the room, and each head rotated slowly in its direction.

Loki stood against the wall, hands chained behind his back. A metal muzzle clung to his mouth, responding only to the fingerprint of an Avenger to be removed. There was a smile in his eyes, seemingly amused by their predicament.

"Oh shut up," Clint barked, breaking his silence for the first time since entering the room. He had been watching the demigod closely, itching to release an arrow into one of his stupid green eyes.

"There's got to be something we can do. Do you have another one of those cages?" Steve asked, ignoring Clint and Loki's stare-down altogether. Fury responded with a solemn shake of his head. The room fell silent as they contemplated and Thor's eyes fell to the ground. His heart ached to see her. He felt sick to his stomach, understanding that he would have to leave without her ever knowing of his arrival. A gentle tapping clouded his thoughts.

Thor's gaze followed a subtle crack in the flooring toward the modest wooden table. His fellow teammates sat in office chairs, rolling forward and back, spinning in place to help their minds stay focused after such exhausting events. He narrowed his eyes as they moved across a glare in the lacquer, the bright fluorescent lights reminding him of his first trip to Midgard. They finally settled upon Tony Stark's calloused fingertips, quietly rapping at the table's surface.

"Don't worry about it, Point Break. I'll watch him. My place in Malibu has the tightest security you've ever seen."

Heads turned once more in the direction of the sound, and Thor's lips curled into a smile. Tony beamed confidently, happy to be the center of attention. It lasted but a moment, however, as Fury naturally had to spoil the fun.

"No, absolutely not," the man replied sternly.

"Aw, come on. Just one day. Why not?" Tony asked, throwing his hands into the air.

"Because he looks far too happy about it," the director replied, matter-of-factly. He motioned toward the corner of the room, and Tony stole a glance toward the trickster. Emerald eyes pierced his own, and he immediately understood the man's hesitance. "I'm not going to just let him get away again."

"I'll help keep an eye on him," Bruce muttered. Loki's brow twitched, and Tony saw a flash of weakness in him. The mischievous bastard would be a fool to step out of line with the Hulk on call.

Fury sighed. He opened his mouth to deliver an undoubtedly negative response when Steve nodded as well.

"Thor deserves a day with his girl. Opportunities like this don't come up all the time. I know all too well that you can't take it for granted," he said quietly, a distinct sadness in his tone.

"Fine," Fury replied reluctantly. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You have one day."

The silence was unbearable. Tony tried to make small talk on multiple occasions, but the flight was mostly spent looking at the sky soundlessly. Everyone was on edge with Loki on board, even with his wrists and ankles shackled, and his mouth still covered. Clint suggested a blindfold, as the god's piercing glare made him feel uneasy, but Natasha assured him that he was being dramatic.

Tony cracked his knuckles as he stared out the window, relief flooding his body when his mansion came into view. His heart pumped in excitement, and his legs grew restless, aching for solid ground. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, he jumped from his seat the instant they touched down.

He impatiently ushered them into his home, leading the way with arms outstretched, emphasizing its intricate architecture and immaculate condition. His teammates followed closely behind, Loki strategically placed in the middle.

Bruce and Steve drank in their surroundings, awestruck. They smiled timidly as they appreciated the beautiful home, eager for a full tour. Natasha kept her eyes on their prisoner, having seen it all before, and Clint clung to his bow, bitterness still lingering in the back of his head. He did not want to be there at all, let alone with the God of Mischief. He cracked his neck and squinted his eyes as confused memories faded in and out. He felt his skin crawl in Loki's presence as he tried to subdue the resentment of having his mind picked to pieces.

"Let's take our guest to his lovely room for the night before I finish showing you the rest of the house. Bruce, you're going to love the lab," Tony said with a smile. He was overjoyed to be home. Despite his normal distaste for company, he suddenly welcomed it. Their battle was a bonding experience, and he loved the idea of having someone to share his toys with, someone who would truly appreciate them.

The man led the team down two flights of stairs into a dimly lit concrete room. There was a small bed and wooden chair up against one of the walls, which appeared to be covered in cracks, holes, and burn marks. The door was made from heavy steel, with a square bulletproof window only large enough to peek through. It was fairly large, but bleak in appearance.

"I got tired of destroying expensive shit, so I started using this room to test out new suit modifications. Nothing too fancy, but it's covered in cameras and surrounded by concrete. I had a bed moved down here because, well, I'm just such a nice guy," Tony bragged, patting the god on the shoulder. Loki glared at him menacingly. "Finishing touch," the man said, bending down to snatch something up from the floor. There was a low clanging sound as he lifted heavy chains and attached them to Loki's shackled wrists. Clint smiled as the god shifted uncomfortably, his hands pinned behind his back.

Tony wiped his hands on his jeans and nodded before turning on his heel. "If you play nice, I'll unhook you. Now, to the lab!" he bellowed excitedly. "Jarvis, do alert us if you notice any funny business."

The team followed him through the heavy door and up the concrete stairs, back to the pristine living space. All of them but Clint. Something about the god's presence was making his head pound.

"Nice room you've got here," he said, once the others were out of earshot. He leaned against the naked wall. There was a smugness in his voice and he smirked, sensing the frustration in the god's emerald eyes. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?" he continued, narrowing his gaze. There was a familiar prickling in the back of his neck, and it made his shoulder twitch. Loki merely stared back at him, unmoving. The man suddenly felt very uneasy.

"You're fucking pathetic," Clint whispered, taking a step closer. Again, he felt an itching sensation crawl through his skin, and he shook his head. Loki's piercing glare was bringing back memories, cloudy memories that he'd tried so desperately to suppress. He bared his teeth furiously, knowing that the god was smiling beneath that muzzle, basking in his abilities to unravel those around him despite being silenced and chained.

He couldn't take it anymore. He clenched his fist tightly and took a step nearer, enraged that Loki's stance did not waver. The god was tied up and, according to Thor, exhausted. His powers were supposedly limited following their grand battle, and should not pose much of a threat, especially with the Avengers nearby. What could he possibly do?

Clint's heart nearly stopped as Loki suddenly lunged forward at him. A startling ringing echoed loudly through the room from his chains and the man stumbled against the wall, terrified. The god snickered delightedly.

"You think that's funny, do you?" Clint asked, exasperated. His heart beat violently in his chest. "How about this?" At that, the man leapt forward and his fist collided with the god's cheekbone, causing him to stagger backward.

Tony had barely finished showing off his newly renovated kitchen when a small alarm sounded in an overhead speaker. He rubbed his temples irritably, surprisingly astounded to have already been interrupted.

"Cameras," he called nonchalantly, and four images of Loki's holding cell were projected in the air, just in time to capture Clint brutally kicking him in the stomach and shoving him against the wall. "That's not good," he muttered, and they quickly sprinted toward the stairs.

"Stop it!" Natasha shouted before grabbing Clint by the shoulders. She was the first to reach the scene and quickly pulled him away. His boot struck the god's jaw as he stumbled backward, and the gruesome sound of their collision made the whole team wince in horror.

Loki doubled over in pain. He fell to his knees and clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms until they felt numb. Metallic liquid filled his mouth and the sour taste of bile tore at the back of his throat. He coughed helplessly, taking in frantic heavy breaths through his nose. His ribs ached and he tugged at his shackles, choking on a mouthful of blood.

Tony rushed toward him and ripped the muzzle from his face. Tears gathered in the god's eyes and a thick pool of crimson splattered on the floor in front of them.

The room fell silent. The team stared wide-eyed at one another in astonishment before their gaze fell upon Loki, whose head was bowed and concealed by inky locks of hair.

Suddenly, a horrible cackling filled the room. It was sharp and maniacal, and made everyone anxious. Tony furrowed his brow as the god's face slowly came into view, his white teeth painted red, lips curled into a twisted smile. The sound was unnatural and strained, but the man couldn't help but feel a subtle sting of sympathy burning in his chest. Perhaps it was the single tear that trickled from the corner of Loki's eye.

"Nice one, Legolas," Tony mumbled angrily, ushering them out with his hands. "Get the fuck upstairs. I'll clean him up before Thor comes back and sees what you've done."

He could hear the god scoff behind him as he walked away.

Tony timidly stood in the doorway holding a hot towel and a glass of water. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he stared across the dimly lit room, eyes landing on the dark figure. Though the situation was less than ideal, he preferred it to being upstairs amid the incessant arguing over what the hell happened and why the hell this was still a good idea.

Loki shifted slightly, chains rattling behind him as he leaned awkwardly against the wall. He was sitting, legs curled up toward his chest, chin still coated in viscous crimson.

"Stark," the god muttered, nodding. He flashed a scarlet smile.

"Loki," the man replied nonchalantly. He took a hesitant step closer, chest raised in confidence. To show weakness was unacceptable, not to mention dangerous.

He lowered himself to one knee and was about to offer the towel before realizing how taut the shackles were against the god's back. He pursed his lips, eyeing the smeared blood distastefully, unwilling to release Loki from his chains after such an incident. Slowly, he raised the damp cloth to Loki's face.

"What are you doing?" the trickster asked, emerald eyes contracting curiously.

"I'm cleaning you up. You're looking a little under the weather."

Loki snickered. "Your friend has quite a temper," he said, shaking the hair from his face.

"Yeah, well, I can't really blame him. You kind of had it coming."

The god shrugged before nodding, a smirk creeping back onto his face. Though he detested the notion of being tended to, he hated the sensation of caked blood slowly drying on his skin even more. He reluctantly leaned forward, cocking his head to the side and jutting his chin toward the steaming towel.

Tony's features slowly came into view, illuminated by the modest overhead lights. Though he was exhausted, there was a distinct vivacity about him, no doubt stemming from the persistent thoughts and ideas continuously flooding his calculative mind. His neatly manicured facial hair accentuated his features, and though it was becoming bristly, it only made him appear more rugged and masculine.

Tony could feel the god's gaze washing over him, examining him, and his discomfort was unbearably obvious. He wiped at Loki's bloodstained jaw clumsily, and the god had to bite his lip to keep from chuckling.

"Do I make you nervous, Stark?" Loki murmured. The words were silky and smooth, yet wrapped in jagged edges that sliced through the air between them. The man's name came out as a sharp hiss, and Tony snorted to conceal an anxious gasp.

"Absolutely not," he replied condescendingly.

They stared at each other for a moment, both seemingly devoid of emotion. The god's eyes were vivid and active. They were mesmerizing.

"May I?" Loki asked. The sound was sensual and alluring. Tony opened his mouth to speak, but his breath caught in his throat. He furrowed his brow in confusion.

"The water," the god added, motioning to the glass on the floor. Tony nodded quickly, embarrassed, and placed it against the god's lips. He drank deeply and his eyes fluttered shut, glad to be rid of the salty buildup that coated his teeth. The icy liquid washed away the tepid bitterness that clung to the back of his throat, and he could not suppress a contented sigh.

He opened his eyes to find the man staring back at him, his face laden with an emotion he could not quite pinpoint. He smiled devilishly, instinctively, as he licked his lips. It oddly resembled desire.

"Will you not release me?" the god inquired, forehead wrinkling in an oddly innocent contortion. He tugged at the chains despairingly and Tony hesitated for a moment, truly considering the proposal. Their positions seemed so unnatural, so backwards. The God of Mischief sat awkwardly strewn across the floor, hands bound and face bloodied. He could still make out the subtle path taken by a single tear as it crawled down his cheek, and it made the god seem human.

But he was not. He was a scheming psychopath and a prisoner, hell-bent on world domination.

"Nice try, Reindeer Games," Tony replied, getting to his feet.

"Wait," Loki started, shifting uncomfortably. He twisted his wrists and pulled at his shackles painfully. "You mean to leave me like this?" he asked, irritated. His tone was overtly haughty, but he was more desperate than insulted. The restraints hugged at his flesh uncomfortably and he yearned for something soft; he ached to lie down and properly heal his bruises and wounds. He narrowed his eyes and his rosy lips curled into an offended grimace. He would not beg for it.

Tony smiled to himself. There was something beautiful about the lanky figure before him, crumpled and helpless, locked away in his own home. It felt twisted and wrong, but it was oddly satisfying. He basked in his dominance over his prisoner, and suddenly forgave Clint for his rash actions. He could understand the desire to cause Loki some well-deserved pain.

"Behave," Tony muttered, walking toward the door.

"I do as I please," the god hissed.

"Of course you do," the man replied, rolling his eyes. He could not stifle a laugh.

"Do not underestimate me, Stark. You humans are a feeble and predictable race."

"Says the guy tied up in my basement?" Tony added, glancing over his shoulder. Loki was smiling, and something about it made him uneasy. Was Fury right? Despite his unfortunate meeting with Hawkeye's boot, he didn't seem to be too torn up over being held captive. Or perhaps he was just too proud to show it.

Loki's tongue darted from his mouth swiftly, wetting his lips. There was something seductive about it, and it sent a shiver down Tony's spine. This was bad.

"Oh, and one thing before I forget," the man said before reaching toward the floor. He saw the god's eyes widen as he gripped the muzzle in his hand and dusted it off. He glanced at his own reflection for a moment and smiled. He brought it to the god's mouth, who surprisingly did not struggle. Loki simply closed his eyes in defeat and sighed.